The new and unknown
by CrystalGlacier
Summary: Your name is Elijah McKenzie; you're the ever cheerful bodyguard of the imfamous owner of SRD Inc. But when you and your employer literally get sucked into Haven city, you end up with more trouble than you have bargained for..
1. Prologue

**AN: Hiya! I'm writing this because I wanted to take a break from the other fanfiction I'm currently writing. Plus, I liked writing in second person view so much I thought I ought to go all the way. This chapter is a tad short, though.**

**By the way; my first language isn't English. So be patient.**

**Read and review, please!**

**PS: I have posted this fic before and deleted it, but I've decided to put it back on just to keep all options open.**

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Prologue

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You're leaning your back against the wall, your eyelids are getting heavy. You're starting to wonder how long your boss intends to work this time. Suddenly, the door to the office flings open, and it's only your good reflexes that stops it from slamming into your face and give you a rather unpleasant date with your dentist. Your boss walks out; you can almost see the black cloud over his head, raining and sending angry, lethal jolts of thunder. Like always, his mood never shows on his face, but you know Nikita Kalentieva well enough to see when he is really pissed. He turns his head towards you with an utterly bored expression on his face.

"McKenzie. I didn't see you there," he said with a slight smirk; lying, of course. You are always standing there, at exactly the same spot. You smile widely at him while he eyes you up and down with a raised brow. You can practically hear him say, once again; "Why aren't you wearing your sunglasses?", "Why don't you cut your hair?", "Lost you razor again, I see.", "For Heaven's sake, wear your suit already!"

But to your surprise, he just sighs and adjusts his spectacles. He turns his back at you and heads for the elevator in the other end of the office floor. You quickly run after him.

"Going home for today, Boss?" you ask cheerfully. Nikita barely affords to send a glance in your direction.

"Yes," he says eventually, "after I've found Alma Lien, and forced her out of the building."

"She's the scientist who always works?"

"Precisely so."

He pushes the elevator button and folds his hands behind his back. You seize the opportunity to study the thin, pink scar that stretches from right under his jaw, to his cheek and across the nose bridge to about to centimeters below the pupil of his left eye. You sometimes to try and come up with theories to how he had gotten it, as a method to kill off time at the most boring times of your days. There is an additional scar on his left cheek, far thicker and coarser than the other one, but you already know how he has gotten that one; it was the one that gave you your job. A sniper had attempted to assassinate him, aimed for his head and barely missed. Ever since that Nikita had felt in need of a human shield. Namely you. But you didn't complain, as the joyful and happy-go-lucky kind of person you are, and you had been unemployed for a while. So you felt flattered that the proud owner of Science, Research and Development Inc. wanted you to be his bodyguard.

"_Floor: twenty-nine. Office,"_ the female computer voice announces coldly as the elevator arrives, and the doors opens. You grin as you walk in after your boss, wondering if the owner of the voice is as hot as she sounds. Nikita folds his arms and pouts in annoyance as the music starts to play.

"I can't remember what on Earth convinced me to get that installed," he says dryly. The glow from the down-lights is reflected in the golden ring on his finger.

"I heard there was a kind of elevator-music in Japan that made people commit suicide," you throw in, glad that he isn't directing his bad mood at you. He snorts in contempt.

"Doesn't surprise me. I'll call the electrician on Monday, and tell her to cut the damned wires."

"_Floor: three. Labs."_

You smirk.

_She sounds cold, but she is so hot._

"Are you coming or what?" Nikita snaps in your direction.

----

You have been walking around in the massive lab for about seventeen minutes, when you spot a curly head resting on some technical drawings on a desk. Nikita walk past you and bends over her, with a look of – worry?

"Aw, isn't that cute, Boss," you say as you step next to him. "Sleeping like a baby."

"I told her to take a week off," he murmurs, sounding disheartened. He grabs her purse and shoves his hand down it, to search for something. You stare at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Boss? What are you doing?"

"Looking for her apartment keys," he answers. A second later, a flash of silver shoots up from the purse. "Got them. Now carry her to the foyer, we'll hand her over to that security guard – what's his name? John? Jack? Anyways, he'll drive her home."

"Will do, Boss."

You lift her out of her chair, surprised at how light she is. She looks like she hasn't eaten for days, her skin is pale and sallow, and she has very deep, dark and reddish circles around her eyes. It's a shame, you think; she looks like she can be very attractive. You toss her over your shoulder, and follow your boss. Nikita walks in front of you, with her purse clutched in his hand. A middle-aged cleaner walks towards you, eyes widen as they fix on the purse. Nikita frowns.

"Whatever you're thinking is not true, and if you don't stop thinking it, you'll lose your job," Nikita snaps at him as he passes you. You glance curiously over your shoulder, and see that he is doing the same with an amusingly baffled look on his face. You grin widely and give him a thumbs-up sign, before your gaze turns back to the hallway. Nikita flips out his cell phone, and types a number.

"Hello, John?... David, okay. Stop whatever you're doing and go to the foyer, you are going to drive Alma home. Yes, again. Come immediately." With that, Nikita hangs up on him, and shoves the phone back into his suit jacket. Then he stops.

"What's the matter, Boss?" you ask, and give Alma a slight jerk.

"I need to use the toilet."

"What about…?"

"Just place her in that chair, next to the little tree."

As always, you follow his order and place her in the chair, but you make sure that she sits as comfortable as possible. Luckily, the men's room is just around the corner of the corridor. The door squeaks as it's opened. Nikita lets out a sound of repugnance as he spots several balls of wet toilet paper stuck in the ceiling and walls.

"Disgusting pigs," he mutters under his breath and walks into one of the booths. You fold your arms and lean against the wall with a raised eyebrow.

_Why can't he use the urinals like other people?_

----

Nikita opens the buckle of his belt, and unzips his suit pants. He grimaces as he sees the large, dark brown stain inside the toilet bowl. As he is about to empty himself, a sudden voice causes him to jump backwards and crash into the booth door.

"Yes. Piss on me, why don't you. Like everyone else. It would be a nice change though, compared to all the crap I usually go through. No pun intended."

Nikita's eyes darts from side to side in confusion and he desperately tries to locate the source of the voice. He only prays it isn't his head.

"Great. Now he is ignoring me," the voice sulks. It sounds like it's coming from inside a well. "Just ignore me, like everyone else! No one cares about old Bobby anymore. He isn't worth shit. No pun intended."

Nikita's head turns slowly towards the toilet. He takes a hesitant step towards it, with a tilted head and puckered brows.

_Was the toilet just…talking to me?_

"Hello…?" he says slowly, with his eyes fixed on the water in the bowl. "S-someone there…?

"Damn straight someone's here!" the toilet hollers angrily. "Namely me! But you were about to take a piss on me, so why should you care? By the way, flashing is very rude. And illegal."

Nikita quickly zips up his pants again, anger and confusion rising inside him.

"The _toilet_ is _talking_ to me?" he exclaims in shock and disbelief.

"Don't be silly," the voice snaps. "Of course I'm not a toilet."

A gentle knock on the door startles Nikita. He sighs in relief as he hears you ask:

"Boss, is everything okay? Who are you talking to?"

"Oh, thank God! Please tell me you hear him too!"

"Yeah, Boss… what are you doing in there with another man?"

Nikita flings the door up in anger, almost hitting your face again. He directs his finger at the toilet.

"Does that look like a man to you?!"

"For the last time; **I'm not a toilet, you imbecile**!"

Both of you jump from the sudden outburst from the owner of the voice. You hear him sigh in annoyance.

"My name is Bob. I am a guard of dimensions. I used to be in the most exciting and exotic places! I mean wow! But just because my sourly chief caught me having some fun with his wife, I'm now stuck here in this sorry excuse of a dimension… and I can't do dick about it. But if…"

You exchange looks with your boss. It's clear that he has a pretty hard time believing what is happening.

"… If I brought someone with me," Bob continues, his voice intensifying with excitement, "if I brought someone with me to another dimension, I would have to stay there to guard them…! Yes! Yes! That's what I'll do! I'll take you schmucks with me! Haha! Hahahahaha! HA!"

Now Nikita is starting to lose his temper. He takes a threatening step towards the toilet.

"Listen, _Bobby,"_ he snarls while clenching his fists. "I haven't the foggiest what you have been smoking lately, and frankly I don't care. We're not going anywhere with you, so you can start making sense just about now and give me the number of your lawyer, because I'll call the police and have them haul your perverted ass out of there!"

Bob snorts. "Say whatever you please. Clamp a hand over your mouths, that way you won't vomit."

A screeching, metallic sound above your head makes the fine hair on your neck stand. Your eyes slowly turn up to see what is happening. A large tube of some kind has appeared in the ceiling. Nikita's jaw drops.

"What in God's name...?!"

An intense, whizzing sound fills the entire room, making you clamp your hands over your ears. Suddenly, your boss is no longer next to you. A grey flash is sucked up into the tub with a scream of terror, and a split second you're involuntarily following the flash. The wind hits your face and make your eyes water. You open your mouth to scream, but your head slams into something hard and all of your senses die…

---


	2. Chapter 1: Prison

Chapter 1: Prison

* * *

A mild breeze strokes your face; the salty smell of sea is tickling your nostrils. You have no idea where you are or what has happened to you – all you know is that you have sand in awkward places. Still with your eyelids closed, you can see the warm light surround you, and feel the sun on your face. That's odd, you think – it shouldn't be warm in February. You sigh in satisfaction; you've missed the beach… the summer… the sun…

A gush of cold water brutally awakes you from your serenity. You cough and gasp for air, sit up and rub water out of your eyes. You look up in confusion – and meet the eyes of a peculiar looking fellow with an empty bucket in his hands. His pale eyes scrutinize you coldly. Then you see them. The ears. Long, pointy ears, sticking horizontally out of his head.

"AH!" you exclaim in terror, before you swiftly get to your feet and step away from him. He raises an eyebrow.

"Really, McKenzie, I hadn't expected jumpiness from you."

You blink. He knows your name? Wow! Then you recognize him.

"Boss?? Your body…!"

"I know."

"Your face -"

"I know."

"Your _ears!"_

"_I know."_

"What _happened?"_

"I don't know."

He sighs and adjusts his spectacles. A thought strikes you, one that makes your heart skip a beat. If he is like that…? What about you…? You raise your arms slowly to your head. Nikita snorts.

"Yes. You have them too."

You lower your arms, feeling bewildered. Nikita flings the bucket as far away as he can manage. You look around, in awe – you are on some sort of a beach, that's for sure. You frown slightly when you see some odd constructions next to the brown mountain walls. And windmill-like contraptions in the water. On the other side is a incredibly tall, sturdy-looking wall, stretching for as long as your eyes can see. Nikita strolls towards it, seeming as untouched as ever. You go after him, and see what he is heading for. A gate in the wall. Nikita tries to open it, but seems confused. You tilt your head curiously.

"What's this, Boss?"

"The way off this beach, I hope. I went exploring a little and saw some really mean-looking creatures… I've never seen anything like that before. I want to get out of here before they find us."

You pucker your brows. "Went exploring? Why didn't you wake me up? I could have gone with you."

Nikita's eyes narrows. "I tried, but I had to give up after a while. You get very sinister when you're asleep. I eventually found that bucket I woke you up with by this door. Speaking of which, are you going to help me or what?"

You shrug and try to help him in his efforts to open the door, but no matter how many times you yell at it, call it names, and nearly ruin your toes while kicking it, it just won't open. Nikita pouts in frustration.

"Wonderful. Now what?"

"Now you two come with me," a cold voice behind you spits. You spin around in surprise, and open your mouth when you stare right at a dozen soldiers dressed in red armor, having you at gunpoint. They had pointy ears too, and tattoos all over their faces. The leader is a skinny fellow, dressed in a yellow and blue bodysuit of some kind, leaving very little to your imagination. His eyes are a brownish, amber color and his hair is orange, like yours. Unlike yours, he looks like he has gotten quite a nasty electrical shock, or used four bottles of hair gel to make it stand up like that. You step protectively in front of your boss.

"See, Burnan?" the leader says to one of the soldiers behind him. "Looks like our patrol got a little exciting after all."

He eyeballs both of you with a raised brow. "What on earth are you two wearing?"

"We were about to ask you the same," Nikita answers dryly. "What is going on around here?"

"You are not in the position to ask questions," the leader spits angrily at him. "You know damned well there is a death penalty for moving outside the city!"

"Can't say we do. We're not from around here."

"Are you trying to be funny, or what?"

"I'm certainly not laughing, am I?"

"There are no other cities left but Haven on this earth!"

"Obviously you are wrong, because we are not from 'Haven'."

The soldiers look insecurely at each other. The leader seems taken aback by this. Nikita sighs, though for a split second, it seems as though a shade of worry crosses his face before it disappears.

"Well, then. I see we are not welcome here. Why don't you tell your men to put away those things before hurting anyone, and let us leave?"

The leader snorts in contempt.

"The hell we are. Seize them!"

A soldier storms towards your boss, and you instantly strike at his chin. The protective gear covering his face makes sure you suffer more damage than he does, but at least you swept him off his feet. Unfortunately you don't see the soldier coming for you, and a moment later a weapon slams into your head and render you unconscious.

_Not again…_

----

You have a pounding headache. Ouch. Pound. Pound. Pound. It really hurts. You open your eyes, and lift your head. The room you're in is painted completely white, and painfully bright lights are aimed at your face. You narrow your eyes. Are they trying to blind you? The chair you are sitting in is hard and uncomfortable, the chains tying you to it gnaw at your skin. This isn't fun.

A tall, brawny man walks slowly into the room with heavy footsteps. He acts surprised to see you.

"Ah! You're awake! That's good. Then you might answer some questions."

He walks up to you, and stands seven feet from the floor. You try to see his face, but the light overshadows it. Wow. You thought you were fairly athletic, this guy can't be doing anything else than pumping iron, taking dumps and drink steroid-cocktails.

"These are the rules; I ask you questions. You answer them, and you don't lie. You never lie. If you lie, I get angry. You don't want to see me angry. And you don't want to smart-mouth me, because that REALLY ticks me off. You address me as sir. Is that clear?"

You don't answer, just stare at him in awe. He grabs your jaw, and force your face inches away from his.

"IS THAT CLEAR?"

His fingers digs deeply into your jaw, it feels like he is trying to break it. With great effort, you barely manage to utter:

"Y-yes, sir."

"Good!"

He releases his iron grip on you. Now you're starting to get worried. This guy can cause you some serious harm. And where is Boss?

"What have you done to my Boss?" you ask before you manage to stop yourself. You swallow, and add: "Sir."

He laughs, a sound that sends chills down your spine.

"Your boss, eh? Tell me, what is your occupation exactly?"

"I'm his bodyguard. Sir."

"Bodyguard? What's that?"

You blink in puzzlement. How can he not know?

"A bodyguard is someone who protects a person, usually famous, wealthy or politically important from assault, kidnapping, assassination and other threats. Sir."

"Ah… so _that's_ why you hit Burnan. Can't blame you there, I feel like hitting him too sometimes."

He laughs at his own joke. You force yourself to laugh with him, and start to fidget with your handcuffs. There is no way you can sit here while some grunt beats the living daylight out of Boss. Suddenly, the interrogator lifts his fist and strike you with such force you almost black out. Stars fly in front of your eyes, and you get an unpleasant metallic taste in your mouth. Then the pain comes. Jolting, pounding, red-hot pain that spreads through your face, your skull, even your neck. It feels like you have been hit by a train. Blood drips from the corner of your mouth as you groan.

"Stop that," the man growls irately. "There's no way you're going to get out of here. Don't even bother to try. Now… what's the name of the city you come from?"

You try to answer, but the pain is overwhelming. After a few attempts, you barely manage to utter the name of the city. Sweet, sweet home. Sweet couch. What wouldn't you give to be there right now…

"And what's your name?"

"El… i… jah…. M … Mh…"

"... Elijah? That's an odd name. A pretty one, though. What about your boss?"

You grit your teeth and start meddling with the handcuffs again, more discretely this time. Your face is suddenly jerked up, in a fierce grip from the interrogator. He glares narrow-eyed at you.

"You are one stupid kid. What part of 'stop that' was hard to understand for you? You can squirm and squeal all you like, but you're staying here, like it or not. And you break my heart when you do that, because then I'm the one who's going to have to penalize you for it."

He lifts his fist again and strike.

* * *

"McKenzie? Are you all right? Are you awake? You look awful."

Boss is standing next to the bed you're lying on. You can barely see him through your blurred vision, but he appears to be unharmed. You grumble something in reply and try to sit up, but he gruffly pushes you back and holds you down.

"Don't bother, kid. You look like you've been hit by a bus. Just stay down, you're only making things worse for yourself."

_Boy? Kid? I'm thirty-five!_

"Wh… what ha-happ… ened… to you…?"

"Some redheaded woman asked me questions. Millions of them. I think she is some sort of Government official. But she didn't touch me once. You poor thing. I should give you a raise when we get back, what do you say?"

"G..gre… great… sir…"

"If only I could contact that damned Bob… but don't worry. Just rest."

You lift a shivering hand to your face. Barely touching your skin sends powerful jolts of pain through your skull. Man, this sucks. You hope you don't end up looking atrociously deformed by the beating, the ladies and gents won't appreciate that.

"Food!" a crusty, male voice shouts and you hear a metallic clank. You're starving, but you don't think you can eat at the moment. Besides, Boss is probably starving too.

"Are you hungry, McKenzie?"

"No. Take it," you whisper raucously in reply.

"All right… urgh, this looks nasty. Like they've collected the hairballs of their cats and made a stew out of it. Smells like it too… won't kill me to try though… I hope…"

You hear slurping sounds and then someone gags.

"URGH, GROSS! No way I'm eating this."

You try to smile, but it hurts too much. A sudden clank startles you.

"Pssst! You guys in there!" comes an unfamiliar, female voice. You open your eyes as much as you can manage, and see Nikita crouching down by his bed and talking to someone.

"Who are you?" Boss asks suspiciously.

"I'm the prisoner in the cell next to ya. You the foreigners?"

"Possibly. What do you want?"

"Why, I'm runnin' a business here! I can give ya everthin' you need. For a price."

"How generous of you, however, we are not interested."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. Really."

"Not even… your freedom?"

A moment of silence.

"Go on…"

"We'll be bustin' outta this joint tomorrow, at noon. Big Chief thinks you're interestin' enough to take with us. If you agree to everythin' he says, that is."

"Well… any place is better than here. We'll come with you."

"Good! Anythin' else you need, darlin'?"

"A medical kit for my bodyguard would be nice."

"Here you go. Be good now!"

Boss rises to his feet and goes towards you. He has opened a box he is holding in his hands, and glances indifferently down at you.

"This might hurt…"

* * *


	3. Chapter 2: Breakout

**AN: C'mon. I know you're there. If there's an aspect of my fic that you would like being changed, there's no way for me to know unless you tell me.**

* * *

Chapter 2: Breakout

* * *

"Wake up, McKenzie."

Someone shakes you roughly and you sigh in relief when you see that it's Boss and not that whacko interrogator.

"How many times did he hit you?" he asks, with a faint, compassionate glint in his eyes. "You look like a multicolored, swollen tomato."

You smile weakly. Then you indicate with your fingers how many times he hit you.

"Twelve times? He hit you twelve times?"

You nod and sit up. You can see a mirror in the cell, but you are too afraid to take a peek. Boss adjusts his glasses and his tie before reaching for something under his bed. You stretch your neck to see what it is and then tilt your head in confusion when he picks up something that looks like a metal tube with a red button on it.

"That prison-lady said this sends out a powerful, electrical shock," Boss explains, while scrutinizing it with skepticism in his eyes. "Like a taser, I reckon. We're supposed to wait for a signal before attempting anything foolish. I just hope none of us will be taken in for interrogation in the meanti-"

"Unlocking cell nr. 19920547!" a jovial voice calls outside. Boss hastily stuffs the taser under his pillow, just as the door opens with a metallic shriek. A gigantic figure steps into the room, and you immediately recognize him as the interrogator. The malevolent grin on his lips causes some of his many facial scars to crease, and others to stretch.

"Hello there, Elijah. My, aren't we looking colorful today?"

"Quiet, Zest," a cold, firm female voice orders behind him. He steps aside and allows the owner of the voice to step in. Your eyes widen. The skin tight, red and grey outfit she is wearing leaves virtually nothing to your imagination, especially combined with the fact that her top is low-cut and reach to just about under her bulging bust. She has odd facial tattoos and blood-red dreadlocks. Her brilliant, green eyes fix at your Boss as she nods in acknowledgment and says:

"Hello, Nikita."

"Ashelin," Boss mutters and rises to his feet. You look at her, then at your boss, and back at her again, your eyes increasing in size.

_She's the one who interrogated him? Not fair!_

"Leave us," she barks to the other men. Zest gives you a small, mocking salute before he walks out of the cell.

"We have some matters to discuss, Nikita," she says calmly after the lot has gone. She looks at you from the corner of her eyes.

"It's Mr. Kalentieva to you," Boss snaps bitterly, while folding his arms and glaring at her. Ashelin doesn't answer, but instead turns to you.

"Did Zest do that to you?" she asks coldly, not a single trace of emotion crossing her finely chiseled face. You can't do anything but nod in reply. She sighs and looks at Boss again.

"Zest is well-known for his eagerness with his fists towards the prisoners. I shouldn't have allowed him to interrogate you, but Errol insisted."

_... Who?_

"I don't usually go to the Fortress, but when I heard you were from another city, I had to come here to get some answers myself."

"Rumors spreads fast around here," Boss says dryly, and brushes some imaginary dust off his suit.

"Are you from Spargus city?" she asks, ignoring his retort.

"Well, I could answer that, but since my answer passed by unnoticed the last eight times you asked me that yesterday, I think I'll leave it."

Now Ashelin looks angry. "I'm the only one around here who is willing to help you out, so you would do wisely in showing me some respect."

"Respect?" Nikita hisses in reply. "You want respect? Your men assaulted us, kidnapped us and that atrocious animal man nearly killed my bodyguard! Why the hell am I supposed to trust you?

Ashelin bristles and clenches her fist. "Because… if you think what Zest did to your bodyguard was bad, you can't possibly imagine what Errol really would have done to you hadn't I been here to stop him."

They glare at each other for a long, lingering moment, the intense silence broken by a male voice roaring:

"JAILBREAK!"

In one swift movement, Nikita pulls out the taser and attacks Ashelin, who is distracted by the call. She barely manage to reach for her gun when the spark from the tube hits her and she falls to the floor, twitching a little before becoming completely motionless. You stare wide-eyed at your boss, even after he has pulled you off the bed and out of the cell. Outside, there's anarchy.

A guard is being attacked by five prisoners at the same time, two guards are rushing to his aid but gets hindered as more prisoners are released from their cells. Suddenly, an alarm is heard and red lamps start blinking frantically. Boss hands you the taser and pushes you in front of him. You're not quite sure what to do.

"Guys! Over here!"

You spin around to see the source of the call and meet the eyes of a somewhat bulky woman with a bandana.

"That's the prison-lady!" Boss exclaims, with a hint of relief. You run towards her, barely avoiding a guard's halfhearted attempt to shoot you. The prison-lady darts through the brightly lighted corridor with a chunky weapon clutched in her hands. It looks like the kind the guards are bearing – speaking of which…

"There they are! Get 'em!"

Two guards storm towards you, with far bigger and nastier tasers than you have. You nevertheless run towards them, grasping your tiny taser tightly and shoot your arm forwards to zap the guy closest to you. He is brutally swept off his feet and twitches when he hits the ground. The second guard uses his weapon as a baseball bat, and swings it at your face. It hits you with such force you spin around before you lose balance and trip over the guy you just neutralized. The pain explodes in your swollen cheek, making you dizzy and disoriented. The guard steps on your shoulder and lifts his rifle to strike you again, but the bulky woman comes to your rescue and shoots the man down. She grabs you by your elbow and swings you over her shoulder, like you weigh nothing. Your head bumps against her back with each step she takes and through your blurry vision you manage to see the frantically moving legs of your boss behind you and, to your horror, you see the armored legs of furious guards behind _him._ Helplessly, you reach out your arm, wishing you could protect him from them. A sudden turn around a corner makes you feel nauseous and you clamp your hand over your mouth as your stomach twists and acid forces its way up your gullet. You can't hold it in anymore.

"Ew, boy, that's gross!" your carrier moans in disgust, and gives you an angry jerk as revenge. It only makes your nausea worse, but luckily you don't have anything left to throw up. A sudden commotion behind you attracts your attention. It seems like other prisoners has come to your aid.

"They're getting away!" a guard exclaims with a finger aimed at you. You see him get tackled by a blonde man with a cigar in his mouth just as a door shuts behind Boss. All of you go to an abrupt halt.

"Now what?" Boss asks, with a slight trace of desperation in his voice. The woman drops you gently on the floor. She starts to push a metal box of some kind.

"Now we use the ventilation systems," she replies cheerfully and steps aside to reveal a hatch in the wall. Boss looks at it, moans in annoyance and rubs his eyes with his thumb and index finger.

"Thanks for your help," he says hesitantly, "What's your name?"

"Annette," she replies and gruffly removes the hatch. She crawls in and signals you to do the same.

"I'm too old for this," Boss sighs, and crawls after her. You run your fingers through your greasy hair.

_I can't believe this is happening to us…_

----

"Ouch!"

You curse as your boss' Italian shoe slips on the metal and accidentally kicks your forehead for the third time. The vent is shrinking and shrinking in size, and you're starting to worry if you're going to get stuck sooner or later. No. You're terrified. If there's anything you hate, it's small, closed areas. Frankly, you think it's a miracle that Annette hasn't had any problems with the size yet. The angry shouts and heavy footsteps of guards echo through the vent. Boss' shoe gets another bad grip and smashes right into your nose.

"Motherfucker!"

"_Language,_ McKenzie!" Boss says, sounding amused.

"Sorry," you growl through gritted teeth. This really sucks.

The trio stops. You pray to whoever is willing to listen that this is the end. Annette removes another hatch and jump down head first, somewhat clumsily. Boss crawls a little further in and swings himself down with his legs. You're too impatient to follow his example, thrust yourself trough the open hatch and land painfully on the floor.

"Ouch!"

"How much longer, Annette?" Boss asks, while stretching his back.

"Don't worry, darlin', we're there soon. Just a little more now."

You look around you, in awe. You are on some sort of a platform. Annette strolls over the end of it and swings herself down. Boss sighs deeply.

"If I knew business life was going to be this exciting, I'd join the Army," he mutters to himself, before jumping down after the bandana-wearing savior. You hear someone cry out and then a soft thud. Raising an eyebrow, you bend down and jump to the lower platform. Annette is dragging a lifeless guard out of sight and then returns with a victorious smile on her lips. She is holding a bulky box in her hand, tapping a finger against the red metal.

"What's that?" Boss asks, taking a step back.

"This, darlin', is a bomb. We're gonna to blast our way outta this hole!"

"Uh… won't the guards notice that?"

"Hah! You really are foreign! It's a big race at the stadium today. Most of the bugs are there."

"What about the citizens?"

Annette sighs. "There really is no helping you, is there? D'you wanna stay here and wait for the bugs to come and throw your sorry ass back into the cell?"

"No, but-"

"Stand back!"

With that she slams the bomb to the wall, and pushes a button. Boss is immediately paralyzed by this, staring at the countdown with an apathetic expression on his face. You let out a cry of shock and wrap an arm around his waist before half-carrying, half-dragging him away from the bomb.

3…

2…

1…

-----

Your eyes wander from building to building, from flying car to flying car, from sourly guard to sourly guard. Your fascination of this strange place has already caused you to crash into some of the strange inhabitants. Nikita seems indifferent as always, but you can't help but notice that he turns his head sometimes too. A blonde woman with a really tight, low-cut shirt walks by you and your eyes widen as they fix on her cleavage.

_Whoa, dude… what's up with the women here? And why are all the people here white?_

A large guard growls when you bump into him. He roughly grabs the collar of your grey t-shirt.

"Watch it, or I'll have your scrawny ass arrested!" he hollers angrily in your face and pushes you away from him. He gives you the Glare of Death before turning his back on you. You blink in bewilderment. Dude. What's his issue? You decide to stand up for yourself, but change your mind when you see that Boss and Annette are almost out of your sight.

"… We going again?" you hear Boss ask as you approach them.

"Big Chief, of course," Annette answers casually.

You stretch your neck and see that you have reached a dock. You can't help but wonder what the point is of having a dock in a city seemingly so sealed off and isolated from the rest of the world. Unless they have ships than can pass _through _the city wall, and that would be so unbelievably cool.

"Here we are!" Annette exclaims excitedly and rushes into a door. As you're entering, you can see that this place is some worn-down bar. What attracts your attention the most is a floating, green lump with tiny sticks under the – no, wait, the lump is a man!

"What took you so long?" the lump-man spits at Annette, who merely grins in return.

"Nice to see you too, Krew. Where's my brother?"

"Out on a mission. Who are they?" Krew asks, pointing at you. You step protectively in front of Boss while eyeing this strange individual up and down.

_Dude… dude… wrong… just wrong. How does he even fit through the door?_

Krew snickers. "Don't tell me. The foreigners. Take a seat, why don't you?"

"We would rather stand, thank you very much," Boss retorts and folds his arms. Krew flies down to your level, with a sourly look on his face. "That wasn't a question."

Suddenly, a pair of muscular arms grabs you from behind, one hand clamps around your throat, another around your waist. You flail with your arms and legs as he lifts you in the air and squeezes your body against his so hard it feels like he's going to squeeze an important organ into mush. Your eyes are watering and you would scream hadn't it been for your swollen face and his iron grip around your throat. Krew grins malevolently as he watches you struggle.

"I actually like this better. Now, let's talk a little about your place of birth, shall we…?"

---


	4. Chapter 3: Mafia

**AN: Thanks for the review, Ayralis Sun!**

---

Chapter 3: Mafia

---

The assaulter's grip tightens around your waist and throat. It's very difficult to breathe and your lungs are beginning to hurt. You frantically fling your arms and legs backwards, in an attempt to hurt your aggressor, the pain now burning like acid against the surface inside your lungs. Krew starts to fan himself, causing the sweat drops to cake on his pallid, oily skin.

"I just knew it was too easy to escape from the prison," Boss sighs somewhere to your left.

"You did, eh?" Krew grins and hovers to the source of Boss' voice. "Annette here is a pro, isn't she? Now get out," he shouts at her. She shrugs and walks past you.

"Treacherous wench," Boss spits at her.

"No hard feelings, darlin', I'm just doin'my job."

"Well, then," Krew grumbles after the door has closed behind her. "Where were we? Oh, yes! The name of your city."

"Why are you so interested in that?" Boss groans, without the usual hints of spite.

"Haven city is big, but not nearly big enough," Krew says, a glow of hunger growing in his eyes. "I want to expand my business, mmm! Before anything, are you from Kras city?"

Boss moans in annoyance. "No, we're not from Kras city, we're not from Spargus city, we're not from Haven city, we're not from this cursed place at all! Would you like me to write that down for you?"

"Cockiness won't do you any good here, hmm," Krew retorts. Suddenly he notices you and your desperate efforts of getting more air. "Let go of the boy's throat, Xen."

The brute called Xen loosens his clutch on your throat and instead clamps his hand over your mouth. White-hot jolts shoots from your face to the back of your skull, making your eyes water. Krew sighs.

"He is supposed to talk, Xen."

Hesitantly, Xen wraps his tattooed, muscled arm around your shoulders. You draw deep breaths of fresh air.

"What's your name, boy?"

"Let go of my boss!" you demand with a cracking voice. Krew laughs.

"Ah, a feisty one, eh? We'll soon take care of that, won't we?"

"Don't do him anything," Boss mutters and sighs deeply. "This isn't necessary. I'll tell you what you want to know… I can't guarantee you'll believe me, I hardly believe it myself…"

Suddenly, the bar door swooshes open. A man marches in, his arms, chest and legs well protected by chunky, rugged plates of steel. Two thick, deadly spikes protrude each of the shoulder pads, and it seems like he has lost his right eye, seeing that there is some sort of a goggle plunged into the socked where the eyeball should have been. He definitely doesn't look like the kind of guy you would want to mess with, you think to yourself, as he drums his fingers on the small, ruffled sack clutched in his hand. Krew's face lightens up.

"Sig, my boy! Your mission went well, eh?"

"Like a charm," Sig answers cheerfully and tilts his head as he is eyeing you up and down. "Who are those guys?"

"The newcomers," Krew replies with a somewhat bored facial expression. "Take redhead with you to the forest," he adds and motions towards you. Xen releases you, somewhat reluctantly, and you land painfully on your knees. Sig hauls you to your feet, and boy is he tall. You spin around to face your aggressor, and he is even taller. Grey tattoos are covering most of his massive body, as far as you can see at least. Your gaze moves to the one who is holding Boss; an exact replica of the brute who attacked you.

_Identical twins?_

They both grin at you. Sig roughly pulls you out of the bar, his eyes wandering skeptically over your figure. Still eyeballing you, he slowly lets go of your arm, as if he worries that you will immediately run away to jab scissors into electrical sockets, or something.

"Don't worry, kiddo, your friend is gonna be all right," he says eventually, as if he just read your mind. Taking your long, lingering stare on the bar door into consideration, reading your mind probably wouldn't have been necessary.

"He's my boss," you answer weakly, still with your eyes fixed at the door. "I'm his bodyguard. I'm not supposed to leave him, I'm supposed to stay with him and keep him safe. And… and no offense, but that man, Krew… he seems kinda… he doesn't seem very nice."

Sig suddenly bursts into laughter, the kind of hearty laughter Rambo would have if he was actually Santa Claus. "No, he isn't," Sig chuckles. "He went out of his way to get his hands on the two of you and he's not gonna hurt your boss, so long as he cooperates and doesn't get all smartmouthy."

That last sentence makes you cringe. Before you get the chance to voice your now very valid concerns, Sig appears much keener on getting along with business; "Seems like you're coming with me to the forest. But there's no way you're going dressed like _that_, the Krimzon guards will jump on you sooner than you can say 'police brutality'. I've got some threads prepped for you, cherry, so you won't have to worry about it. Are you familiar with firearms?"

You blink in perplexity. "Uh… uh, yeah… the kind we have back home."

"Hm," Sig mutters. "Well, wouldn't hurt you to get some shootin' practice anyway. Follow me, cherry."

He turns his back on you and leads the way. You quickly step as close to him as you can without touching him. Suddenly you feel incredibly overwhelmed. In the total time span for about a day or two, depending on the amount of time you were unconscious on the beach and in the cell, you have been sucked from your own world through a tube by a dude named Bob, grown yourself a pair of insane elf ears, knocked out cold, kidnapped, tortured during interrogation, knocked out cold _again, _been a part of a huge jailbreak, assaulted by the mafia man Krew and his men, and now you're apparently joining this sinister Sig person on some sort of a mission or something.

Wow.

Way too much.

You decide to not think too much about it for the time being, having to preserve your sanity and all, and try to focus on keeping Boss and yourself alive. You get abruptly pulled out of your thoughts as a red armored guard pops into your vision. You steer your gaze away from him, trying to avoid looking at him and catching his attention, but you can feel his scrutinizing eyes burning in the back of your skull, almost through your skin, as you pass by. To your relief, he doesn't say anything or come after you.

"In here," Sig says after a while, motioning with his arm towards a door. You follow him through it, balking as a bag of something soft is swiftly tossed at your face, barely managing to catch it before it hits you.

"Clothes," Sig explains. "Try them on."

You shrug, drop the bag, and start pulling your t-shirt over your head. As your head appears from under the shirt, your eyes meet the fairly stunned face of Sig.

"What?" you ask, unbuckling your belt. Sig turns his gaze away from you and fixes it on a brown spot on the wall just as you pull down your pants. "What, are you shy?"

"No," Sig replies, somewhat amused, "I just thought I'd let you have some privacy."

"I don't mind. If I could choose, I'd walk outside in my underwear."

"I suggest you don't do that."

"Okey-dokey."

Trying the clothes on proves soon to be easier said than done. The shirt is simple, made from a rough, white fabric, slightly resembling a tunica and reaching a few centimeters below your crotch. With it follows a practical belt with plenty of pockets and a gun holster. You wrap it around your hips, over the shirt and fasten it. The pants are form-fitting and made from a grey, elastic fabric. From there, you are supposed to try to pull on a pair of combat boots, gloves and a navy-blue vest with a dozen nonsensical buckles and leather straps each.

"Uh, Sig?" you say, almost pleadingly. "Help."

Sig turns around, his face cracking in a big grin at the sight of your helplessness. "Too complicated for ya?"

"This is stupid," you mutter in annoyance as you fumble with the buckles. "Haven't these people ever heard that less is more?"

"Nope. And you shouldn't throw around phrases like that. People who are interested in you will look for people who stick out like sore thumbs, so you oughtta fit in as much as you can."

"I'll try," you grumble. "But I won't like it." Suddenly, you remember the Krimzon guard who glared at you earlier. "Hey, Sig? On our way here, a guard stared at me, really intensely like. Do you think he recognized me?"

Sig frowns. "Did he do anything?"

"No. He just stared."

His frown dissolves in an expression of relief. "Well, then he didn't recognize you. Maybe he thought you were a troublemaker because of your funny outfit. As I said, chili pepper, you don't wanna stick out and draw attention to yourself in this city."

"Okay. If you say so."

Sig hesitates for a moment. "Looks like you've received a few punches."

"Yeah," you reply, quite happy with yourself having managed to put on the boots correctly. "Quite lucky that that Annette woman broke us out of there, or else I'd might have ended up with a few broken bones as well."

A sudden dry laughter emanating from Sig's throat makes you look up in surprise.

"Luck?" he says, raising a brow. "That wasn't luck, boy, that was a carefully planned out operation."

"Wait, what?"

"Do you honestly think that you got involved in a jailbreak a mere day after getting arrested, getting brought to Krew and to me, having a prepared set of clothes fitted to you, by a coincidence?"

You don't answer. Sig sighs. "By the precursors, you're naïve. As I said before, Krew went out of his way to get his hands on you, and that is no coincidence. He has a man on the inside, who reported about the arrival of two foreigners who, apparently, were quite oblivious of the existence of Haven. That sparked Krew's interest, and he ordered Annette and Jinx to get themselves arrested. Our man made sure that Annette ended up in the cell next to you, and that was lucky, though, because it was previously occupied by a guy who escaped a couple of days before on the day he was set to be terminated. Anyway, you know the rest of the story."

A chilling layer seems to wrap itself around your diaphragm. "What? What does he want with us?"

Sig shrugs. "Beats me. He at least wants to get to the place you came from."

"But… how? We don't even know how we got here."

"Well, that's gonna be a problem," Sig states simply. He turns on his heel, stepping towards a shelf with various weapons, none of which you manage to recognize. He hesitates for a long moment before he grabs one and faces you.

"Here," he says, reaching the weapon out to you, "try this one out."

You waver for an instant, then curl your fingers tentatively around the cold steel of the pistol. It feels strange in your hand. Shooting him a quizzical glance, you ask; "What do I need this for? Are we going to shoot someone?"

Sig chuckles. "Don't you worry your little head, cherry, it probably won't be necessary. We're just gonna set a deal, the gun is just in case anything happens."

"Oh. What kind of a deal?"

"You'll see."

In one swift movement, Sig pulls out a tiny, russet cube, his eyes narrowing into tiny cracks in his stony face upon focusing on it. "Shit. We're late. Real late. We gotta get moving!"

"Wait, I thought you brought me here for target practice?"

"No time. Come on!"

---

With his back resting against the padded back of the bar-sofa, Nikita stares at the twins, his arms folded over his chest. The twins, Xen and Xinan as they are called, sit on the sofa opposite to him, gentle smiles plastered on their tattooed faces. Their expressions are somewhat peculiar, friendly and curious, seeming almost mesmerized at Nikita's appearance, their eyes flicking across his face and attire with great interest. They have been assigned by their superior to keep Nikita under observation and not let him escape while Krew is out on an errand.

Nikita clears his throat. "So… what exactly are you two doing for Krew?"

Their smiles grow wider, but they remain silent. Nikita raises a brow. "You're not really the talking types, huh?"

They tilt their heads in unison, their eyes suddenly riveting to a point above the bar counter. Nikita frowns and turns around, stretching his neck. The monitor in the bar is showing a young woman, apparently some kind of a news reporter judging by her attire and microphone, talking to the camera.

"… _Riot at the Fortress, resulting in eight escaped prisoners," _the woman says, her voice laced in gravity._ "Two of them are said to be especially dangerous and mentally unstable, one young man in his twenties and another, older man in his early forties or late thirties. The younger man is described as having red hair, average to athletically built, dressed in grey and blue. The other has dark hair, two facial scars and dressed in black and white. The Krimzon Guard promises three whole months' supply of Eco for any information that leads to their capture…"_

_McKenzie isn't _that _young, _Nikita thinks to himself. He has no idea what Eco is, but he reckons it must be of quite some value to the residents here due to the reporter's emphasis on the reward. He returns his gaze to the twins, flinching at their sudden change of expression. Their stare rests stiffly on the face of the reporter, even after she is through with talking about the Fortress. An unsettling quiver runs down Nikita's spine when they glance at each other and then at him, their faces lined with grimness. Nikita can feel his heart dropping several inches in his chest.

_Oh, fuck._

_---_


End file.
